


Avalanche

by irislim



Category: Lizzie Bennet Diaries, Pride and Prejudice (1995), Pride and Prejudice (2005), Pride and Prejudice - Jane Austen
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern, Christmas, F/M, Family, Fluff, Friendship, Holidays, Hurt/Comfort, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-04
Updated: 2017-12-25
Packaged: 2019-02-10 10:48:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,116
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12910344
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/irislim/pseuds/irislim
Summary: Sometimes, love crashes down and traps you at unexpected times, in unexpected ways. Ten minus one times Darcy and Lizzie find themselves stuck together at Christmas. A modern AU.





	1. Chapter 1

**One.**

The first time she meets him, she writes it off as her unlucky day.

"A scholarship kid? No, thank you, I'd rather not," he says what he says  _just_ when she passes by his cluster of arrogant old money jerk friends.

She's twenty that year, just old enough to care.

"And is there anything wrong with studying hard and getting good grades?" She spins around and interrupts  _way_ before she thinks it through. The girl on his left, dressed in little more than a band aid over her privates (it's a ballroom, not a beach, girl), sneers right on cue. Lizzie smirks at the possessive arm she links quickly around her tall, glowering prize.

"I beg your pardon," Mr. Tall, Glowering Prize says and frowns.

Lizzie leans her head to one side. "What's this I hear about scholarship kids?"

"I did not mean to insult in particular," he explains - his face halfway between gallant and annoying. The tux brings out the handsome, she'll admit. "I was merely being canvassed on my opinion on potential roommates when I expressed - "

"Save it," she snaps. She wonders, briefly, what this crowd will say to her current evening gown having been sourced at Goodwill. A hint of embarrassment mingles with her indignation.

"Miss - Elizabeth." She sees him glance at her name tag before addressing her. Leave it to Marston U to mix formal banquets with acquaintance requirements. "I did not intend - "

"She said save it, William." Miss Bikini-Ballgown leans really,  _really_ close to his face. It's funny to see him flinch. "I don't think Miss Trailer Trash here wants to talk to you."

Sure, he wasn't the one to say it - but Lizzie credits it to him anyway.

"I'll stop treading on your Holy Grounds now,  _Sir William_. A bratty rich kid? No, thank you, I'd rather not."

She holds her head up high when she walks away - a paragon of academic pride.

Thank God Christmas break starts tomorrow.

* * *

**Two.**

When Jane's only birthday wish is for everyone to meet her boyfriend's family, it's kinda hard to say no.

When Jane the angel shares a birthday with Christ Himself, it's suddenly a little awkward to mix Bennet family holiday traditions with the mansion on the edge of town.

Legend says that 25 Pinewood Drive used to be called Netherfield - a veritable estate. The moment the ratty family van pulls up the grand driveway, Lizzie thinks legend has it totally right.

Everything from the balustrades to the butlers to the two-story double door screams luxury. That's why it's shocking that what's  _inside_  proves to be the even bigger surprise.

"Jane's  _sister_? Well, I dare say the beauty all stopped after the first one." The hostess scoffs before her next sip. Lizzie remembers her. She doesn't remember Lizzie.

"Caroline Bingley, right?" Lizzie extends a hand anyway. It's for Jane - only for Jane.

The thing is, Miss Caro here doesn't seem remotely impressed that anyone  _else_ knows her name.

"The one and only." Caroline blinks - almost flirtatiously, totally ignoring the hand. Lizzie's about to freak when she realizes who's behind her.

"Hi - Elizabeth, right?" The shock of his amicability is  _almost_ equal to the shock of discovering that Mr. Anti-Scholarship-Kids is  _just_ as handsome in an ugly Christmas sweater as in his college banquet tux.

Lizzie takes a minute to find her tongue. "Right - yes - William."

He smiles at the fact that she remembers.

She suddenly feels remarkably small and heavy.

"I know Charlie mentioned a few sisters. I didn't realize our top student was one of them." He's generous today - friendly and generous.

"Our?" She squeaks - very elegantly.

"Oh, right - I mean." He's almost blushing. Then he straightens and speaks calmly. "My father was on the board of Marsten U for most of his life. When he died six months ago - I took over."

William - William Darcy - the local college news about the new youngest member of the school board (and how  _handsome_  he is) suddenly sinks in.

"I'm - sorry for your loss."

"Thank you."

His eyes are warm when he half-smiles. Caroline, probably still having forgotten their three-minute encounter last year, calls for his attention and pulls him away.

* * *

**Three.**

Being twenty-two gives Lizzie a new sense of purpose. Gone are the days of college immaturity. She's a senior now, side by side with Jane, and she's not about to let the Bennet legacy go to shame.

"They look happy." Darcy appears beside her.

Lizzie smiles, still nursing her drink. "Yeah - it's nice of Caroline to accept her."

Darcy nods.

Charlie and Jane's relationship threw her and Darcy together quite a few times this year - including the most over-planned proposal Lizzie has  _ever_ witnessed. It's been fewer than ten times in total, but those few times were enough to make her change her mind quite a bit about him.

It's changed her mind enough, at least, for her to be watching this party from the sidelines with him.

"I'm going to London - tomorrow," he says without any prompting.

She feels her heart clench a little - just a tiny tad.

"I see." She sips her drink.

"My father's business on that side of the pond can no longer be ignored, unfortunately." His sigh is long and loud.

She smiles, trying her best to be encouraging. "You'll be here for the wedding, right?"

"In and out - two days at the most."

"I see," she says because there's really nothing else left to say.

They watch the party quietly. They both sip from the Bingley heirloom wine glasses way after they've been emptied.

Say what you will about her manners, Caroline Bingley knows how to throw a party.

That's why it's such a pity that the guest of honor's favorite sister can't enjoy it.

"Do you plan to come back?" It takes her five long minutes to ask the question in  _just_ the right way.

"Maybe - someday. Unfortunately not in the foreseeable future."

She doesn't look at him at all. It's bad enough feeling his presence beside her.

"Best of luck, Will." She doesn't even try to mask her sadness.

"Thank you, Lizzie."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope this story will help us all get into the yuletide spirit. Please hang in there for the HEA :) Please forgive me for pausing my progress in other stories to finish this one!


	2. Chapter 2

**Four.**

He barely makes it for the baby shower next year. By the time he tumbles into Netherfield's family room, his eyes are still bloodshot from the long night of work and the even longer day of crappy airline seats.

Some days, even business class doesn't cut it.

"Will! You're here!" Bingley, father-to-be, is as cheerful as ever.

Despite the weariness, Darcy smiles. "You left me no excuse."

"Come here, man. We've missed you." Bingley's hug - if not for the overt sentimentality - is welcome.

It doesn't take long for Bingley to let his friend go and to deposit him on the sofa nearest to the golden couple. The fact that his seat makes him squeeze tightly against Lizzie makes Darcy put extra effort into not blurting anything he can't really take responsibility for in the morning.

Jane Bingley, bless her heart, is tittering away just a few feet from him.

It was her idea, frankly. He's made his excuses (very valid excuses) for the last twenty-five social engagements Bingley has invited him to all year. It was this one he couldn't avoid.

Who says no to a birthday party, Christmas party, and baby shower all in one?

"How's London?" His mind registers the familiar, chipper female voice.

He turns and tries to smile in the least creepy way he can manage. "Very well. Their holiday traditions can be - different."

"I'm sure." Lizzie laughs - and he remembers just how charming her laugh is. Framed by all the warm Christmas decorations in the room, her brunette tones look particularly striking tonight. "Salmon and marzipan, I hear?"

"Yes, quite so." He smiles despite himself. He knows he shouldn't lead her on. He knows this wouldn't go anywhere.

Still, he matches her smile for smile.

"Darcy, is that your gift?" Bingley's question pulls him away from his wordless communication with Lizzie.

Darcy, suddenly realizing the very purpose of his visit (which is, unfortunately, not named Elizabeth Bennet), fishes out a slightly-wrinkled gift bag from his carry-on suitcase. He smiles at Charles and Jane. "Here you go - sorry for the delay. It's nothing much. I'm sorry."

"Any gift is welcome." Bingley grins before handing the present to his wife.

Jane, despite her growing belly, efficiently unwraps the gift as quickly as she did the other two dozen.

"Oh, look! It matches what Lizzie got!" Jane cries immediately.

Darcy watches the scene unfold before him in total surprise. Jane's cry was the signal, it seemed, to call all members of the Bennet family to rush forward to her lap, gush about the matching presents, and display said matching presents beside each other.

"It's just - a dress," Darcy says sheepishly.

Jane Bingley smiles. "But they match the boots perfectly!"

For the next twenty minutes, Darcy just sits quietly and smiles.

* * *

**Five.**

"I came as soon as I heard." He walks toward her briskly - and catches her hands between his the moment they meet. His own eyes threaten to water. "I'm so sorry, Lizzie."

She nods through her tears. Black suits her - but today's sadness doesn't.

Her voice comes out cracked, shaky. "He was such a good man."

Darcy nods, fully acquainted with her current pain. George Darcy may have been sick, but any death is sudden to the family. "Two days before Christmas?"

"Two days before Christmas," she confirms.

Right outside the funeral home, tinsel and mini figurines of Santa Claus line each window. Here, inside - everything's broken.

"It's the worst Christmas, Will - the worst of them all. To lose my dad is - " Sobs overcome her, and she falls apart and lands on his chest. He hugs her without question.

Friends and family move up and down the aisle beside them. He catches a few distant aunts eyeing the tall stranger hugging their niece.

He just ignores them.

"I wish I gave him my present early, you know?" She pulls back a little, tears streaming unceasingly down her face. "It was a first edition - so hard to find. I pulled every string I could to get it for him."

Darcy nods, squelching the urge to wipe her tears.

"I know I'm not supposed to cry, but how can I - " She fights to subdue her sobs. He wishes he could tell her she can sob in his arms all her life.

But now isn't the time - isn't the year.

He only had to move his flight up by a week. He was coming back already - all packed and ready to go. He'll be here now, stateside and safe.

In his mind, he planned speeches and dramatic entrances. Reality called for an urgent phone call to his travel agent and a red-eye flight to Newark.

"I loved him so much," Lizzie mourns.

Darcy nods - and pulls her back into his arms.

* * *

**Six.**

It takes two months - just two months. He's determined to give her space, determined to stay his romantic onslaught until she's had time to move on from her family's loss.

Blinking at his phone today, he realizes he has a lot less time than he thinks.

"Lizzie!" He's standing right in front of her within an hour of seeing Jane Bingley's group text.

"Will?" She stops in her tracks. The two colleagues flanking her don't hide their curiosity. "I - you - I thought you were in London?"

No - he wants to say - no, he's been here all this time because of her. He's chosen to keep headquarters here because of her.

"I'm not," he says stupidly.

For a few seconds, he just absorbs her blank stare.

"We'll catch up with you, Lizzie?" The male colleague asks her.

Darcy watches her nod.

Before you know it, they're standing face to face, alone, in front of the school where she teaches.

In the background, he hears lingering students laughing in the playground.

He ignores them.

"Is it true?" He wishes his question didn't come out sounding like a demand. He wishes that she understand. He wishes a lot of things.

"What is?" She crosses her arms. The teacher glasses look adorable on her. He has a feeling now is not the right time to tell her that fact.

"Thailand," he says without blinking. Jane's text didn't say much - just her standard invitation to a simple family farewell party.

It's the implications of that text that make him shudder.

"And what if it is?" She's shuffling - uncertain.

He grabs the chance. "Don't go, Lizzie. Stay here - for me."

Her eyes widen. He wonders if she's expected this at all.

"Marry me, Lizzie - and we'll never be apart." The words tumble out consecutively. He reaches for her hands, but she pulls away. "I moved here just for you. London was better - but  _you're_  here, so  _we'll_ stay here. I know it may sound like a lot to give up for you, but I'd like to think you're worth it. You're smart and adaptable - so you can teach English anywhere. It really doesn't have to be - "

"Are you  _proposing_?" Her face is stuck somewhere between shock and confusion. Her arms are still locked - her hands tucked out of reach.

"I - " He realizes, belatedly, that he  _did_ propose.

But he doesn't see anything wrong with that.

"Marriage is not a bad thing, Lizzie." He steps closer. She lowers her head without shrinking away. "At the right price, the country's best wedding planners can set up an event in virtually no time. We don't have to wait - "

"Darcy, I - "

"No - not Darcy." He pauses, hurt. He feels his throat grow dry. "You call me Will. You have for months."

She stares at him wordlessly. He's starting to realize his revelation hasn't been all that welcome.

"I'm sorry, Will." She blinks multiple times. Her eyelashes look wet. "I have to go."

He stays where he is, frozen to the sidewalk, as she shakes her head and slips away.

Next week, he skips the farewell party altogether.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this can be angsty for a Christmas story. I just hope the growing emotions can be reward enough in and of themselves! On another note, if any of you have read and liked Real while it was still on this site, is it possible for me to ask a favor of you? A recent discontent reader has spitefully left a one-star review on Amazon, and the book's repute has suffered strongly since then. If you have an Amazon account, can you please leave a kind review on the book? It would mean ever so much to me if you do that. Your kindness will be my favorite Christmas present this year! Thank you!


	3. Chapter 3

**Seven.**

Her first Christmas back home after twenty-two months away is not  _remotely_ what she's been expecting.

"Lydia!" She runs into the hospital like a lioness gone wild. "Lydia!"

Tears stream down her face. The déjà vu quality of these  _exact_  hospital hallways adorned with these  _exact_  same holiday ornaments cut a knife into her heart.

"Lydia, please - " She turns the corner towards the emergency room, heart flying a thousand miles an hour - and crashes into a tall, expensive coat.

"Lizzie!"

She extracts herself quickly, fingers wiping helplessly against her irreparably wet face. It doesn't sink in that Mr. Expensive Warm Coat somehow knows her name.

"I'm sorry," she rushes her apology. "I need to see my sister - she was hit today - "

"Lydia's okay. She's in recovery." Mr. Tall, Dark, and Handsome has a very familiar voice - and very strong hands.

She struggles weakly against the clamps on both her shoulders. "Sir, I'm sorry for hurting you. You can send me the dry-cleaning bill if you want. I just need - "

"Lydia's okay!" He shouts. "Lizzie - it's me. It's me."

She blinks unseeingly at his chest. Her vision, blurry and impaired, doesn't help much.

"Lizzie? Please - don't panic."

She looks up slowly - chest to shoulders to neck to chin to -

"Will?" Her eyes clear slowly. Her breathing slows incrementally.

"Yes, it's me - I'm here." He's frowning despite his assuring words. "The best surgeons in the region did their job - she'll survive."

Lizzie blinks - still unseeingly.

The traumatic phone call from a crying Jane thirty-two hours ago, the last-minute plane ticket that cost every last cent she's saved in Asia, the cramped Bangkok airport and her subsequent three layovers, an almost-snowed-in flight, the perils of U.S. Customs when you're flying in from God-knows-where, Asia - everything comes crashing down on her.

She cries.

She cries tears of exhaustion, tears of hope, and tears of joy.

"She's okay - she'll survive," she echoes what he said two minutes ago.

"Yes." He smiles at her now. "They saved her just in time."

Slowly, she smiles too. "She's okay - she'll survive."

"Yes, she will."

"Thank you."

He seems surprised at the way she meets his eye.

"Lizzie, you don't have to - "

"You helped, didn't you?" She's never been more sure of anything in her life. "Our family would never have afforded the region's best surgeons.  _You_ chipped in."

"I - well, I - uhm, Lizzie - I didn't have to do much. I - "

"After all I did to you - you helped save my sister." His grip on her shoulders are loosening - her new grip on his lapels are not.

He looks sideways, downwards - away. "Lizzie, I've never held anything you've done against you. I understand that I was the one who proposed with no reason whatsoever, and I feel - "

"Thank you." She hugs him tightly.

It takes a few seconds for him to hug her back.

"Can we start fresh? Please?" She talks into his shoulder. Her heart is in all new types of knots.

"No," he says after one, long, arduous heartbeat.

She catches her breath, hoping deeply that she heard him wrong.

He pulls back and holds her at arms' length. She suddenly wants, very desperately, to run away.

"But we can move on," he says with a smile.

Five seconds later, she smiles too.

* * *

**Eight.**

"I really told Charles not to do anything." At 30 years old and seven months pregnant, Jane Bingley is as beautiful as ever. She smiles brightly at her sister. "Isn't Charles the best?"

Lizzie smiles - because if there's ever anyone who deserves life's best, it's her kindhearted, Disney-princess sister.

"Happy birthday, Jane." She hugs her older sister. "And merry Christmas."

"Merry Christmas, Lizzie." Jane sighs, bliss in every breath.

Lizzie smiles for most of the night.

She smiles when Jane's two existing children hug their mother's bulging belly. She smiles when Lydia - restored and bubbly - gives all of her sisters books for Christmas. She smiles when Charles kisses his wife, as in love with her as the first day they met.

The only time she doesn't smile - is when Charles makes that one, single, off-handed comment.

"Darcy? Maybe they're running late. I know he still has to pick up Caroline."

Lizzie's smile falters, her heart sinks.

It's almost as if the universe conspires against them. It's like they're cursed or something.

Sure, she's developed some sort of a friendship with him ever since Lydia's accident and her abrupt homecoming last year. Sure, she sees him once or twice a month nowadays - whenever they share a friendly weekday lunch. They do e-mail occasionally, and they tweet each other stuff  _all_ the time.

But it's not like she has any proof that she's the only one he does all of those things with.

"William! Hi!" Jane greets  _everyone_ with a smile on her face.

Lizzie lifts her eyes slowly, a little scared of what she'll see.

"Where's Caroline?" Charles asks when Darcy sets down the glass he's just emptied.

Darcy - Will - shrugs. "I told her to catch an Uber."

"Still can't get rid of her?" Charles asks what Lizzie wants to know.

His friend shrugs again. "She's been worse since her divorce - can't send mixed signals."

Everyone else in the room laughs.

Lizzie doesn't.

"Lizzie," Will calls her across the room. She meets his beautiful, smoldering eyes. "I think I left your gift in the car. Can you - come with me to get it?"

There's a skip in her step when she does.

* * *

**Nine.**

"That was nice." She smiles when she snuggles up against him on the couch. All of their sisters have since gone to their respective guest rooms. Netherfield's big - but Pemberley's bigger.

Ever since their burst of passion and sudden make-out session in Netherfield's foyer last year, Christmas at the Bingleys' have earned another reputation within the family.

She doesn't really blame Will for wanting this Christmas to be at his place instead.

"I'm glad you like it." He kisses her brow. She smiles. "I was nervous about the change in scenery."

She looks up towards him, beaming. "But you and Georgiana did great."

He smiles when she kisses him - and kisses her back for plenty more minutes to come.

She's panting softly when they stop.

It's like her smile is permanent these days. "Merry Christmas, Will."

He doesn't answer her right away. He just looks at her - gazes into her eyes like he has something entirely different to say.

"Will?"

"Did you like your gift?"

She's a little taken aback - but, hey, the sapphire earrings were  _fine_.

"Of course." She kisses him gently. "Thank you so much."

"That's good."

He's nervous. She feels it.

For some reason, even her smartest brain cells can't tell her why.

"I have something else for you," he's speaking slowly, almost too slowly considering the racing heartbeat under her hand. "But I think it might require you to give me something else too."

"Yeah?" She smiles.

Then she stares when he pulls out the ring box from his pocket.

"Lizzie." He breathes in loudly - then breathes out just as loudly. "Will you marry - "

"Yes."

He laughs. "I haven't even fini - "

"Yes, yes, yes - yes!"

"Lizzie, I - "

The way she tackles him has him pinned to the couch and speechless for a very long time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you liked this! Thank you so much for reading! I'm going through a very busy, trying time personally right now, so these stories are a great diversion. I hope they can be happy diversions for you too :)


	4. Chapter 4

**Ten.**

"Thanks for agreeing to this." His wife doesn't seem to know the way she's lounging on the bed is making it exponentially hard to focus on what she  _says_. "I know it's not what you're used to."

He smiles as he slides on to the bed, leaning on his side - and pulls her close.

"I don't have anything against a quiet Christmas." He kisses her. "My favorite gift is right here anyway."

She giggles when he kisses her jaw. He knows it's the stubble - but he did like her reaction.

"You don't miss your friends?" She leans on his chest. Her skimpy nightgown isn't doing any favors for his focusing skills. "I mean, I know it's normal for honeymooners to want to be alone - but I know how men tease each other about being whipped."

He grins against her hair. His hands run up and down her half-exposed back.

Even the expansive Pemberley master suite can't take away the sense of intimacy he feels now.

"My only male friend whose opinion I care for is called Charles Bingley. Do you honestly think he cares?"

It's Lizzie's turn to laugh.

It's a delightful sound.

"I'm sure he's glad to have Jane all to himself too." Her cheeks lift against his chest when she smiles. "Three kids can be a handful."

"I'm sure."

For a few, lovely minutes, they both seem to prefer soft kisses and caresses over words.

"You know the other upside to this, don't you?" He whispers. She's lying on her back now; he's hovering above her. It's prime position for a lot of things.

"That you don't need to feel pressured about your presents?"

"Ha." He chuckles. "Well, that too."

"What were you gonna say?" She runs a finger from his crown to his jaw to his shoulders.

"With a private Christmas, we won't have to see Caroline Bingley."

Lizzie makes a face. She tends to strike a good balance between possessiveness and pettily jealousy - optimal, really.

"You don't miss her?" He asks playfully.

"Do  _you_?"

"No." He laughs, nuzzling her neck. "Of course not."

"Good."

"Why would I when I have you?'

They don't talk much for the following hour - nothing much beyond a few logistical requests and plenty of moans and sighs.

There's something special about private Christmases. Maybe, eventually, kids and dogs and middle age will replace today's simplicity. Maybe, who knows, that remote day in the future is only as remote as they want it to be. Maybe today is their first, or their last, Christmas all to themselves.

Frankly, he's just happy they have today.

"Did you like your present?" He kisses her forehead. He can't seem to stop kissing her, on whatever expanse or sliver of skin that offers itself.

"I really thought you'd save the diamonds for anniversaries." She looks - appreciatively, he hopes - at the sparkles on her wrist. It's both funny and endearing that she wants to wear the thing to bed.

"You deserve better than just anniversary presents."

"Well, you deserve more than a wife who doesn't give you anything."

"I said I didn't want - "

"Well, so did I."

He meets her eye languidly, almost distractedly. Her hair, splayed all over her pillow, frames her face perfectly.

He doesn't have much of an argument to offer.

So he kisses her instead.

"Merry Christmas, Lizzie," he says before he drifts asleep, half an hour and three dozen kisses later.

Her lips press softly on his cheek. "Merry Christmas, Will."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merry Christmas, everyone! I know this chapter may feel a little anticlimactic. I just want something quiet and fluffy for them after all those dramatic Christmases :) Enjoy the holidays!


End file.
